Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound
by JMHaughey
Summary: My entry for Secret Santa. Takes place after Daredevil in the Mold - no matter what, they are always partners.


**For Vipa – Enjoy! Happy Secret Santa. **

**Think S6 - B&B, a bit o' H – breakup, angst and smut! Follows end of Daredevil. **

**Big thanks to Cindy and Jen for the read-throughs. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed **

* * *

**'Cause my mind is just like hers****  
****Just as broken just as crippled just as burned**

_**For Those Below**_**, Mumford & Sons **

Booth clumsily shut the door with his back. He retreated to the floor. He lined his back against the door and gingerly tapped his head against the door, letting out a deep sigh. He was angry. He was drunk.

Brennan locked his door the from the outside. She was unclear on what to do. She arrived earlier at the bar hoping her presence would comfort Booth but he'd already drank too much. Hannah had called informing Brennan on the failed proposal and breakup. She didn't give her opinion to Hannah because she had already warned her that Booth would give himself fully. She had left the lab and gone to the bar.

Brennan stood outside of Booth's apartment, she listened for movement. She could hear his body shift downward. He hadn't called out in pain. She held her left hand touching the sturdy, oak door. She would return here tomorrow because that's what partners do.

Booth sat up, not using the door as a crutch, he then crawled on all fours to the living room because standing up required too much effort. He didn't turn on the lights – light was no good for the eyes. His first option was his bed – he shook his head left to right – no, no bed. That's where he slept with Hannah last night. Second option, the floor – good for the back – a little cold. Third option, the couch – yes, he thought – he liked that. Booth raised himself up to his knees. He braced himself on the couch, lifting his right leg first followed by his left. Except that as he tried to stand up, he misjudged where his head would land and bumped the end table. The swiftness of that action knocked the end table over sending the Bakelite telephone sliding across the wood planked floor. Booth grunted, "Fuck." Still fully clothed, he grabbed the blanket and covered himself. He fell asleep as his head hit the cushion.

* * *

Booth woke up, licked his dry lips then rubbed his eyes. The pungent smell of fresh coffee wafted through his nostrils. He uncovered himself with the blanket, in search of the scent. Brennan stood with her back to him, her hands lightly drumming the counter. The coffee maker beeped, indicating it was ready and Brennan opened the cabinet to retrieve a mug for Booth. She turned to bring a sleeping Booth coffee. He frightened her when he spoke, "Bones!"

"Booth, what are doing up? You scared me. You should probably be lying down."

He squinted at her. "What are you doing here, Bones?"

Brennan ignored his question and ushered him back to the couch. "What did you do?" She looked to the phone on the floor. "Still angry?"

"Yes! I'm still angry. It's hard not to be." Booth seethed through gritted teeth. "Maybe I just need the space."

She cautioned her response and answered meekly, "I understand, Booth. There is aspirin and water on the end table. Make sure you drink plenty of fluids. I know you'll think you are fine but please do it." She smiled at him and turned back to the kitchen.

His eyes followed her movements as she paused to gather her coat and bag. He considered calling out to her but decided against it. Booth heard the door close as he sunk back into the couch and turned the television on. He was asleep shortly there after.

* * *

He heard his phone ringing and was startled. He began patting his pockets but he couldn't feel it. Where the hell is it? he muttered to himself. He listened for it so he could follow the ring. He couldn't recall being anywhere but the couch. Fuck. He staggered towards the bathroom, he spotted it. It wedged between the toilet and sink. The Caller-ID lit up. _Bones._

"Hello?"

"Booth, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Bones . . . What's up? Do we have a case?"

"Not that I know of, I have several messages on my phone from you. I haven't listened to them yet. I thought calling you would be wise."

"Oh!" He racked his brain. What the hell did he say? He rubbed his temple. "Sorry, Bones. You can just delete them."

"I assume if you left them, something important was said." She paused. "Are you feeling better?

"I doubt that." He wanted to hang up and somehow delete those messages. "The head is clear. The heart no so much." He owed her that much.

"I'll be by later. First, I have some work at the lab to do. Bye."

* * *

Booth exited the bathroom after he took a long shower, he vigorously scrubbed off the remnants of last night. He spotted that telephone in his peripheral vision. That's what set him off last night, he was sure of that much. He stepped quickly into his bedroom for clothes. He stood there and looked around. Everything was different yet the same. Just yesterday morning, he and Hannah woke up, made love and left for work. Another regular day. The bed was bare. Sheets and comforters had been kicked off the bed in the heat of the moment. Booth was making a list in his head of new things to purchase. He pulled on a FBI t-shirt and some track pants. He wasn't planning on going anywhere. Brennan had seen him in less.

He picked up the telephone and then swiftly placed it back on the table. It flooded his mind with memories. He and Brennan were talking over take-out one night, he recalled something about Pops and the phone. His grandfather made sure if there was a home burglar, he could strike the person with the phone because it was very heavy. The only logical explanation for Hannah knowing about it was because Brennan had told her. The only personal thing Booth had ever divulged was Brennan was in love with him. He didn't tell her about his confession, and maybe he should have. It didn't seem like Hannah was ever here. She had no special food, no toiletries lying about, nothing hung in the closet. The time they spent together revolved around sex. He was still angry, though. He really had loved her.

Booth looked around his apartment. He knew it was filled with memories of laughter, late night talks, cooking, paperwork, and drinking– because of Brennan. He picked up a frame a smiling Brennan and Parker looked back at him. They were in their bathing suits laughing about pushing Booth in the pool. Parker loved carrying the pool key around.

Brennan was an extension of himself. They had revealed their feeling to each other, but not at the same time. He was angry at that, too. He cursed himself loudly. Both times, their personal lives took backseat to the professional partnership they established. All he wanted was to be consumed by love. He believed it was still possible.

* * *

Brennan had left herself in. "Booth," she called out. "Are you here?"

"Right here, Bones" He looked away from the television. "Hi!"

"You're looking better." She nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"My head is clear." He patted to couch cushion next to him. "Come sit, watch TV with me."

She obliged. "Booth. . . the voice-mails."

"Bones, I was in a bad place. I don't even know what I said. Honestly, not my finest hour."

"If you felt you needed to talk, I would've listened. Sweets is always available. Not that I blame you for not confiding in him. Booth, I … I haven't played them. Do you want to hear what you said?"

"I really don't know." Brennan reached over and grabbed his hand. His hand pulled back, not expecting that uninhibited touch. Her thumb caressed his hand. Silently, letting him know she wasn't going anywhere. His head gently rested on her shoulder as he said, "Thank you, Bones." She responded by nudging her shoulder playfully.

Booth stood up, his fingers laced with Brennan's. She rose and stood face to face with him. His free hand reached up gently touching her face. He twirled a piece of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. Her free hand covered his heart. Indicating to him she knew what was really there. His thumb traced the outer ridge of her ear. He kissed her cheek. He raised his head in line with hers to look her in the eyes. He kissed her other cheek, he continued by placing a kiss to her forehead followed by tracing his lips down to her nose then pulling back and finally, enveloping her mouth with his. Their tongues thrashed for a few minutes.

Brennan pulled away. She lightly punched him as she shook her head."Booth. . ." she purred, enticing him. He pulled her closer. "Are you . . ." He didn't let he finish her sentence. She stared at him.

Booth rolled his eyes towards the bedroom indicating he wanted to take this further, somewhere else. Booth didn't want their first time to be on the goddamn couch in his living room yet that room seemed tainted. Though, he thought, it's not he hasn't had other women here. He hasn't moved in the time he has worked with Brennan. He wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much. He had to forget about it. He couldn't fuck this up again. It was one of the most important things he had done.

Brennan fought every rational explanation of why what she was supposed to do was somehow wrong. But she knew taking a leap was what she needed to do. She laughed as Booth rolled his eyes. She grabbed his hand and followed him.

* * *

Booth realized that his bed was still bare. In his fit of rage, he had stripped the bed. "Sorry, Bones. One second." He dropped her hand and scurried to the closet shelving his linens. He shook out the sheet, lining it up with the corners of the bed. Brennan grabbed a corner to fold under the mattress.

"Well, this is a first." Brennan broke the tension. "I've never helped make a partner's bed."

Booth laughed heartily. "I'm glad I can surprise you, Bones." He met her eyes.

"Always full of surprises." She cocked her head, flashing her crooked grin. "That's one of my favorite things about you."

"Oh, yeah?" He sat on the edge of the bed. Brennan climbed over to him. She pressed up against his back and began nuzzling his neck. She playfully took Booth by the shoulders, leaning hin back so he was laying on the bed. Then she stood up, unbuttoned her shirt and looked at Booth.

She was between his legs. She unzipped his pants then inched her hands along his thighs removing his pants. Brennan leaned down, taking Booth in her mouth. Her hand was supplementing where her lips were sucking him off. She kept one hand on Booth's erection then began peppering his milky white stomach with kisses. She could taste the alcohol on the epidermis of his skin.

His unoccupied hands traced the underwire of her bra cups with his thumbs. With one swift movement Booth unclasped her nude, lacy bra exposing her breast to him. "You are beautiful, Bones."

He leaned up tracing the delicate area around the aureole. "Oh. . . Booth." Her perked nipples were then devoured by Booth's tongue. This caused the sudden arching of her back with every taste of her skin he licked.

Brennan straddled Booth. She gently rocked her hips above Booth ever so slightly connecting with his solid, hard cock. He moaned. "I want you."

She sat up on Booth, quickly thrusting back and forth. Booth brought her closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. They rolled across the bed and Booth laid on upon her, still together. "Booth. . . Booth. . ." He thrust himself inside of her. He gritted his teeth, calling out her name. "Oh, Bones." With final guttural sound, they broke apart.

Neither of them moved, they laid there. Each wondered what to say. Booth rolled on his side. "Hey, Bones."

Brennan rolled to him, he took her in his arms, "Yes, Booth."

"You can delete those messages."


End file.
